Worlds Without End: The Prophecy (Book 3)

By Shaun F. Messick

The destinies of three worlds and the Chosen One rest upon three ancient gold tablets written in the pure language of God. Now, good and evil collide in an epic battle for control of the galaxy and the souls of mankind.

The ageless war for the souls of mankind rages on in the third installment of the Worlds Without End series. After the presumed death of the Gnols’ supreme leader – Koroan Chast, Dorange Gar seizes command over the other military overlords with the assistance of an ancient, supernatural being. Their goal is to find the golden tablet of Earth. This relic, combined with the relics of Terrest and Gnolom, will give untold power to whoever possesses them; enough power to dethrone even God, Himself. But before Dorange and his new ally can look for the ancient relic on Earth, they must first destroy the remaining human resistance on Terrest.

Meanwhile, a child is born on Terrest to the transfigured beings of Jake Palmer and Celeste Chast. This child, as the prophecy foretells, is the only one capable of deciphering the three golden plates. Consequently, the evil forces of the galaxy are searching for this child, hoping to use him for their own motives. Will Celeste and Jake be able to keep their son safe, or will he be used as an instrument for the purposes of the evil one?

Unbeknownst to both sides, however, a new and more powerful evil is rising within Mount Resumpsi on the planet of Gnolom, with intentions to use its newfound power.

You’ll be taken on a wild ride as physical and spiritual forces, both good and evil, clash in a story that will take you to the far reaches of the Milky Way Galaxy, and through a saga that encompasses every aspect of human potential in the epic war for control of the souls of God’s children and ultimate lordship over the galaxy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shaun F. Messick
• Release date: Dec 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9780988561045

Shaun F. Messick

Shaun Messick is an established writer. His works include fiction and freelance blogging. His first novel, Worlds Without End: The Mission, has been successful with over 40,000 downloads and purchases. The next book in the series, Worlds Without End: Aftermath, has continued that trend with seventy-five percent of the reviews having 4 and 5 stars.Shaun currently resides in Shelley, Idaho with his beautiful wife and his four wonderful children. From as early as he can remember, he was a fan of science fiction stories, particularly Star Wars, Star Trek, and Battle Star Galactica. He is truly a nerd at heart. From these interests, Shaun has developed a unique talent of his own, crafting ideas into fascinating story lines for fans of science fiction to enjoy.Along with his writing escapades, Shaun loves sports, playing golf, spending time with his family, and reading.

Book preview

Worlds Without End

The Prophecy

Book 3

Shaun F. Messick

Published by Empyrean Books at Smashwords

Copyright © 2015 Shaun F. Messick

Cover Art, Copyright © August 2016, Fiona Jayde

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and political figures are intended to give the story a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual private persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Scripture references taken from the Authorized King James Version of The Holy Bible, The Book of Mormon, The Doctrine and Covenants, and The Pearl of Great Price.

This book may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

www.EmpyreanBooks.com

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 9780988561045

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Discover other titles by Shaun Messick at Smashwords.com:

Worlds Without End: The Mission (Book 1)

Worlds Without End: Aftermath (Book 2)

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Note to Reader

Acknowledgments

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1: INSURGENCE

CHAPTER 2: THE BIRTH

CHAPTER 3: EVIL RISING

CHAPTER 4: DISCOVERY

CHAPTER 5: RENDEZVOUS

CHAPTER 6: SURVEILLANCE

CHAPTER 7: VENGEANCE

CHAPTER 8: TRANSFORMATION

CHAPTER 9: THE RETURN

CHAPTER 10: INVASION

CHAPTER 11: A FALLING OUT

CHAPTER 12: BETRAYAL

CHAPTER 13: THE CHAMBER

CHAPTER 14: DESPERATION

CHAPTER 15: GOD’S TOUCH

CHAPTER 16: ESCAPE

CHAPTER 17: PYRAMID OF THE SUN

CHAPTER 18: DESTINATION ORION

CHAPTER 19: EARTHQUAKE

CHAPTER 20: AFTERMATH

EPILOGUE

Worlds Without End: Redemption (Book 4)

About the Author

Books by Shaun F. Messick

Pronunciation Guide

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my lovely family. To my wife, Tanya, you have always believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. And to my four beautiful children, Kylee, Bryant, Alexis, and Parker: You are the reason I write. Thank you.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading Worlds Without End: The Prophecy, Book 3 of the Worlds Without End series. Many readers have emailed me and have written wonderful reviews on Amazon.com and Goodreads.com praising the first two books in the series. Yet, as with any book, it has also received its fair share of criticism. And it is this criticism that I wish to address.

Most of the criticism that The Mission and Aftermath has received has been due to the fact that the reader did not know the plot was embedded with religious doctrine used as a foundation for the storyline. I am an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and with conviction do not deny that fact. The basis for the Worlds Without End series is derived from the following doctrinal beliefs of the LDS Church:

- God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are three separate beings that makeup the Godhead. (Doctrine and Covenants, Section 130:22-23)

- The Father and Jesus Christ are resurrected beings with bodies of flesh and bone. (Doctrine and Covenants, Section 130:22-23)

- The Holy Ghost is a spirit, so that he may dwell in the hearts of men. (Doctrine and Covenants, Section 130:22-23) (The Holy Ghost will have the privilege of receiving a body one day, but that is yet to be revealed.)

- Lucifer and one-third of the host of Heaven were cast out for rebellion against the Father and His Son. They were banished to Earth until the end of days, at which time, their final judgment will occur. In addition, Lucifer and his followers were prohibited from having bodies as a consequence for their rebellion. (Revelation 12:1-9; Doctrine and Covenants, Section 29:36-39)

- Jehovah, under the direction of God the Father, has created worlds without number for God’s children to reside upon. (Moses 1:33)

- John, an original apostle of Jesus Christ, was permitted to live until the Second Coming of Christ. (John 21:23)

- God resides on a planet near a star named Kolob. (Abraham, Chapter 3). It has not been revealed where Kolob is, but many scholars have speculated the possibility of it being in the center of the Milky Way Galaxy because this, according to scientists, is where new stars are born.

- Earth will become a Celestial planet at the end of its mortal sojourn where God and his Son will reside along with the righteous and just that have followed God’s commandments. (Doctrine and Covenants, Section 130)

In no way does this story reflect the views of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is simply a fictitious tale derived from scripture. In other words, it is an alternate reality, if you will, of the possibilities out there in the vastness of the universe. The story is meant for entertainment and recreational purposes only.

If you are looking for a science fiction novel without references to God, then this story may not be for you. However, if you are intrigued with science fiction with strong religious undertones – such as I am – then you will be fascinated with the Worlds Without End premise. This novel, along with the rest of the books in the series, combines science fiction, religion, and the supernatural. Many people believe that these three categories contrast too much to be incorporated into a story. I disagree, however. I believe that all three go hand in hand. All the questions that mankind has been faced with regarding our existence and where we are going can be traced back to these three classifications.

In summary, I hope you enjoy reading the Worlds Without End series. Just keep an open mind and be amazed at the wondrous creations of our Father in Heaven.

Sincerely,

Shaun F. Messick

Acknowledgments

I wish to express a heart-felt thank you to the fans of the Worlds Without End series. You are the reason this series is beginning to get noticed. The Mission, the first book in the series, has had over 50,000 downloads for the Kindle by itself. Again, thank you and please continue to spread the word about the series.

I also wish to express my gratitude to my editor, Beth, from BZ Hercules Editing and Consulting. Once again, she did an excellent job editing and proofing this book.

Last but not least, I would like to thank my family for being patient with me throughout the writing of this book. You have always been my rock and encouraged me to continue writing when I became discouraged.

PROLOGUE

There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

~ Genesis 6:4, The Holy Bible: King James Version

Earth Time: 6,000 years ago, The Planet Gnolom . . .

Coen sat on his shimmering black mare, overlooking the valley below. The large horse whinnied and reared back, sensing something was wrong. Coen quickly grabbed the reins with one hand and reached down with the other to stroke her mane. Easy, girl. It’s just a storm blowing in.

The mare growled in a low tone, perceiving that there was something else amiss. Coen knew she was right, however. Danger was coming, and he knew what it was. He looked out over the valley as the clouds above began to darken, developing into ominous forms. Some of the shapes began to resemble the very monsters that the humans on Gnolom had been fighting for over 200 cycles.

A stab of fear suddenly shot through his body and pierced his soul as a flash of lightning arced down into the valley below, striking the ground at the foot of Mount Resumpsi. Coen began to count under his breath and steadied himself upon his mare. The clap of thunder startled the horse. She reared up and whinnied again. Coen’s muscular arms flexed as he held himself in place. After her hooves landed back onto the lush, soft earth of the subtropical jungle floor, he stroked her mane again. Shh . . . Lightning and thunder; that is all. The enemy is not here. . . At least, not yet.

Nonetheless, his mare had every reason to be concerned. The sound of the thunder sounded just like the ear-splitting growls of the monsters that were on the verge of wiping out the last remaining humans on this planet. His horse had heard it thousands of times as she carried Coen into battle after battle against the raging beasts. Battles that were all lost. Consequently, she was on edge.

Shh …, he whispered again. It is okay.

The horse calmed down and whimpered as she jerked her head to the right, communicating to her master that she wanted to return to the safety of the village.

The village. Coen’s thoughts immediately turned to his home below within the valley. He squinted his blue eyes as large raindrops began to pelt his battle-scarred face. The wind whipped through his own black mane as he leaned a little further upon his horse to tell if he could see his beautiful bride. He knew it was foolish. He was up too high to get a good look. Suddenly, another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, striking the same place just at the base of the legendary mount. This time, he didn’t count. Instead, he leaned over and began to whisper words of comfort into his mare’s ear before the thunder rang across the valley, over his village, and up to where they were located, seven kilometers away.

The mare stood her ground as the thunder exploded through the air. Coen let a small smile form along his lips. He and his mare, Jokina, had a bond that even he couldn’t explain. Sometimes, his wife, Sierrone, would joke with him, saying that he loved the mare more than her. He would laugh and tell her that wasn’t possible. Sierrone was the love of his life. His relationship with Jokina was just different, something he couldn’t put into words.

As he stared down into his village, he thought back to the day he had rescued Jokina. That was fifteen cycles ago when he was just thirteen cycles old. He had been on a scouting survey with his father when they encountered a wild herd of horses that were massacred. Some of the corpses were half-eaten. Others were left to rot in the hot jungle sun. The lone survivor of the herd was Jokina. She was just a foal, not even a cycle old. She had been severely injured and was near death.

Coen and his father brought her back to the very village nestled in the thick jungle brush below. He could see the stable where he had nursed Jokina back to health. Once she was healthy, he trained the mare to the point where she had become the envy of the tribe. Even at the present moment, she was the tribe’s fastest and strongest horse. She had saved his life in countless battles against the giants that were now devastating his planet.

The giants. He had become very familiar with the danger that threatened to wipe out every human being on Gnolom. After his father had been killed in combat, Coen ascended to chief, but he would never forget the haunting words his father had told him as a tingling sensation rippled down his spine. These monsters, his father had said, are a race of evil beings. Their goal is to cause the extinction of humans upon our home world. They crave blood more than anything else. There is no negotiating or reasoning with them. . . And I am afraid, son, that they may very well wipe us off the face of our home planet.

Coen was still young when his father had spoken these words. But because he was so young, he did not comprehend them until he had come face to face with one of the hideous creatures himself. His stomach began to churn as he thought back to that first experience. He took in a deep breath, inhaling the hot, wet air in order to avoid vomiting from the stench of the giant’s breath that had been forever imprinted on his mind.

After a few more deep breaths, he continued to think about what his father had told him about the giants. His father explained that he didn’t know where the giants had come from. They had been around since before his own great-grandfather was born. Some of the priests in his tribe speculated that the giants had been on Gnolom for over 200 cycles. Of course, there were legends as to their origin. Some legends said that the giants were placed there by a race of beings from the stars, to wipe out all of humanity so that these beings could claim Gnolom as their home. Other legends said that the giants were the result of breeding between the star people and the humans. And yet others speculated that these people from the stars experimented on humans, which resulted in the creation of these abominations.

Jokina stomped her hooves again onto the jungle floor, which had now become a soup of mud from the torrential downpour that had begun a few seconds earlier. She jerked her head to the right again. Coen reached down with both of his arms and caressed the sides of her neck, a gesture that always made her relax. It is okay, Jokina. We cannot go yet. We must wait for the signal from Rurik.

The mare stopped fidgeting and settled down a bit.

Coen smiled and looked up again over his village and toward the famed mount where his friend was camped. Rurik Ozur, Coen’s best friend since childhood, was on Mount Resumpsi. Coen had sent him on a mission to scout the mount and to find any reason why the giants were so interested in it. He had an idea as to why the beasts wanted it so badly, but those stories were only legends.

Of course, every human being on Gnolom, at least what was left of them, was told by the priests that the gods had placed the mount over a mysterious garden. The Garden of Taosheoa, as their ancient records called it, was the mythical paradise where the gods placed Gnolom’s first man and woman. It was even rumored that the garden contained a tree that sprouted fruit that would turn a mere mortal into a person with supernatural powers, making him near immortal.

But to Coen, these were just stories told by the priests so that his people would be scared into submission. Personally, Coen didn’t even know if he even believed in the gods anymore. He used to believe. But how could he now? If the gods were what the priests portrayed them to be, then why would they allow these evil monsters to exterminate every individual on Gnolom?

Jokina whinnied once again and jerked her head up, trying to get Coen’s attention. Snapping out of his daydream, Coen looked up. There it was. Through the thick clouds and the pouring rain, he could see the enormous fire that Rurik had created, which indicated he had found something.

There it is, girl, Coen said as he jerked the reins to the right, turning Jokina around. He kicked the heels of his boots into her flanks, and she darted off down the muddy trail of the mountain. Rain and mud splattered both of them as they raced into the valley.

By the time they reached the village, they were covered from head to toe in mud. But Coen didn’t care. He was excited to see his wife and curious to know what Rurik had discovered. Jokina slowed her sprint to a trot when they were within twenty meters of the walled village, and Coen could see his guards standing in the two towers on each side of the thirty-meter timber gate. Each timber within the wall was carved to a sharp point and craftily woven together. The strength and height of the wall, along with a moat of oil around its base that could be ignited with a single flaming arrow, had been enough to keep the giants out for as long as he could remember. But only one or two of the inept creatures, which averaged about five meters in height, would try to overtake the village. Despite its defenses, Coen still worried what would happen to his village if more than two giants attacked.

The village was the only home that Coen knew. He was born here, and he wasn’t about to let his home, which housed perhaps the only remaining humans left on Gnolom, become another emblem of carnage for the giants.

He whistled, imitating a bird, to signal that he was returning. His guards gave the order to lower the gate over the moat. The gate lowered and landed with a thud. He guided Jokina over the bridge and held his breath, trying to block the stench from the oil only a few meters below. Once inside, the guards rolled the gate back up, and Coen jumped down from Jokina.

One of Coen’s aides rushed to grab the reins of the mare. Jokina reared back. She didn’t like anyone near her besides her master. It is okay, girl, Coen said as he stroked a muddy hand across her mud-caked neck. Auteria is just going to get you cleaned up.

The mare growled her displeasure but conceded in following the guard to the stable as he jerked on her reins. Coen chuckled. He always found it quite humorous how she acted around other people.

As soon as he turned around, a dark-haired woman dressed in a long brown dress covered with a blue apron jumped into his arms and landed a passionate kiss onto his lips. He kissed her back. After a few seconds, he lowered the woman to the ground and stared into her crystal blue eyes. She was now covered in mud as well. Hi, Sierrone.

Coen, it has been days. I was beginning to get worried, Sierrone said with a hint of anger in her voice.

I am sorry, my love. I had to be sure that the giants were not near the village.

His wife looked at him questioningly. But you suspect that they are?

Coen looked down and kicked at the mud. With a sigh, he looked back up into his wife’s eyes. He tried to hide the trepidation in his voice as he spoke. Yes. Most giants we have come in contact with have the mental capacities of flies. But I have heard stories. There are some with intelligence that would rival the gods, particularly their leader – King Middoni. He will never stop until he sees the extinction of our race.

Sierrone gasped but quickly hid her fear. Come; let us get out of this rain. Dinner is waiting inside. She hooked her arm around her husband’s arm and leaned her head onto his shoulder. The couple walked toward the tallest structure in the village, a two-story log building that served as a residence for Coen and his wife, as well as the central meeting place for the villagers.

Before they entered, Coen looked around. It was getting darker now, and an eerie silence enveloped the small village. Most of the 123 residents of the village had retreated to their private huts and shacks for protection from the downpour. Once inside, he had to squint to adjust to the brightly lit hall. Oil-lit torches adorned the walls as the smell of roasting pig permeated his olfactory senses. He turned to his right and saw the large swine being spun on a poker over the fire pit. His house servant, an elderly woman named Vailar, smiled at him through rotting and broken teeth. He acknowledged her with a nod and turned back to his wife. Rurik should be returning soon from Mount Resumpsi. I am going to get cleaned up before he arrives. We will then dine with my captains as we plan our strategy for a possible giant attack.

His wife nodded her head and kissed him on the cheek. He walked down the spacious meeting hall and up a few steps onto the platform where their solid oak thrones, which were polished to dark brown sheens and adorned in red velvet cushions fastened together with shimmering brass clasps, rested. Just before he turned to walk up the stairs that would take him to his private quarters, he heard a small boy call out for him.

Uncle!

He turned just in time to see a rambunctious little boy bounding across the hall. The blonde, blue-eyed child was covered from his waist down in mud, obviously having just returned from playing out in the rain.

Abadani, where have you been? he asked, squatting down and reaching out for him.

Abadani jumped into his arms. Uncle, I have missed you.

Coen pulled Abadani in close, squeezing tightly. Oh, how I have missed you too, he replied as he put the young boy down and rubbed his mud-caked hand through Abadani’s hair. Flecks of mud dropped to the wood floor as Abadani’s eyes danced around with excitement.

Coen’s heart nearly melted. Even though Abadani was not blood, he loved the four-cycle-old child as if he were his own son. Glancing at Sierrone, who had now made her way behind Abadani, he could see the sadness behind her eyes as she smiled at them.

He didn’t have to read her thoughts to know what was going on in her mind. His wife was barren, and because of her inability to produce an heir for him, she felt a tremendous amount of guilt. No matter how many times Coen reassured her, she could not hide her remorse. She had even offered her personal handmaiden to him in order to give him an heir. But he refused to accept the gift. Sierrone was the love of his life, and he would not betray that love by sleeping with another woman, even though plural marriage was an acceptable and expected practice for a tribal chief.

He smiled at his wife warmly, letting her know once again that it was okay, and knelt down to look into Abadani’s eyes.

Where is my daddy?

Your fa—

Without notice, the double doors to the assembly hall opened abruptly. Rurik came barreling in, drenched to the bone and covered in mud. He was followed closely by two of his captains, also covered in mud. The only feature Coen could make out on Rurik were the whites of his hazel eyes.

A heavy, sinking feeling penetrated deep into Coen’s gut, for Rurik’s eyes told it all. They were wild with fear. Where are they? And how many? he asked with urgency.

Daddy! Abadani screeched, turning to run toward his father.

Rurik kept a cold gaze on Coen and placed an acknowledging and muddy hand on the top of his son’s head. He was out of breath. Co-Coen. Jus-Just before we came down from the mount, I spotted them. They are heading this way. Th-They are about seven kilometers away from Mount Resumpsi.

Coen stepped forward and grabbed his beloved friend by the shoulders in order to settle Rurik’s nerves. In a low tone, he asked, How many, Rurik? How many were you able to spot?

Rurik tried to speak, but he couldn’t get the words out.

How many? Coen roared, shaking the fear from his dear friend.

Hun . . . There were hundreds of torches, Coen.

By the gods, Sierrone gasped.

Coen shot a look at one of Rurik’s captains. Sound the alarm! Gather all of the women and the children to the safe room. . . I want every able man battle-ready within the hour!

*****

Coen and Rurik sat on their horses near the summit of Mount Resumpsi. From this vantage point, they could see the entire valley. It was dark now, and the rain had stopped. The thick clouds had disappeared, revealing the bright stars.

Coen closed his eyes and sucked in the damp night air. Peering back to the stars, he set his gaze upon the brightest star in the sky. His ancestors called it Terresta Ok Ni - the goddess of protection. For as long as he could remember, his people worshiped the star and revered her for her guiding light at night. Despite his misgivings about the actual existence of the gods and goddesses that his people praised, he closed his eyes and hoped that there was something; some kind of god or goddess that could protect them from the evil horde they were about to face.

What do you think, Coen?

What? Coen asked, startled out of his thoughts.

Do you think they will attack tonight?

My guess is that they will. King Middoni is no fool. He knows we will take the high ground. I only hope he thinks that we have the women and children up here for protection as well. I pray that they will be safe in the underground safe room.

So do I, my friend . . . so do I, Rurik said as he turned his attention from Coen and stared down at the hundreds of torches that were massing at the base of the mount. A look of fear and dread graced along his face, an obvious sign that he was worried about Abadani.

Are the archers in place? Coen asked.

Rurik turned his terrified gaze back to his friend. Yes. We have fifty-two archers on the ledge, thirty meters above our position. He turned and pointed up toward the ledge.

Coen turned up toward the ledge. That won’t be enough.

I know. But they are all we have left.

What about the oil?

Nodding up toward the same ledge, Rurik replied, We have ten men, each one manning a ten-gallon drum of oil. On your order, Coen, they will pour the oil onto the encroaching giants, and one of our archers will ignite the oil with a flaming arrow.

Coen turned his gaze back to the legion of giants below. A heavy feeling of sadness and defeat began to pour over him. It was almost as if his soldiers were dumping the oil on him. His breathing became shallow, like he was drowning in the thick, black ooze.

Are you okay? Rurik asked.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. There is no hope, is there, Rurik?

His friend stared at him in awe. This was the first time Coen had even hinted at defeat. Do not say that. Do not say that for the sake of my son . . . and . . . and for your wife. The gods will see us to victory. And my wife’s death will be avenged.

A flash of anger flared through Coen. Without notice, he burst out, Gods! What gods, Rurik? Where have the gods been for all of these years as we have watched the ones we love suffer and die? We were not meant to die like this – as food for these . . . these abominations! As far as we know, we are the last surviving humans on Gnolom. If we are under the protection of the gods, where is the sign? Show me, Rurik! I don’t see how loving gods would constrain us to such horrors.

*****

The spirit hovered a few feet above the muddy jungle floor. Hanging in the air between Coen and Rurik, his white robe fluttered, creating the illusion of white wings. Neither mortal could see him, but he could sense the hopelessness in both men, particularly Coen. Listening intently to the mortal’s ranting about the nonexistence of the gods, the spirit looked down upon the giants.

Even though it was dark, the spirit could see as clear as the noonday sun. The creatures were horrific. He could not tell the difference between the males or females. Some of the giants were as short as four meters; others were as tall as seven. One, obviously their leader, stood nine meters tall. He was hideous. The beast was covered in animal pelts down to his knees, leaving exposed his hairy knees and calves. Battle armor covered his torso and a helmet made of the same metal covered his head, which had two large, pointy ears jutting out. His skin was a scaly, pale mix of gray and brown. Razor-sharp teeth filled the monster’s mouth with green ooze dripping from each corner. The nose of the creature was bulbous, large, and scarred with pockmarks. But the most disconcerting feature of the giant was its eyes. The sclera of his eyes were red and seemed to glow when the beast raged with anger. The irises were the blackest the spirit had ever seen, a reflection of the darkness that consumed the creature’s soul. They were truly abominations before God. No wonder the Father and the Son wanted these monstrosities wiped out.

The spirit could not bear to look upon the creatures any longer. He turned his attention back to the man who had lost his faith. He looked upon him with compassion, knowing that victory for his brothers and sisters upon Gnolom would be determined by their faith, something they were lacking at the present moment. A sting of fear reverberated through the spirit. Not because he lacked faith, but because if these mortals did not regain their faith in any kind of deity, the Father would allow them to be wiped off the face of the planet. It didn’t matter that the humans did not believe in the true God of the universe yet. What mattered was that they had faith in something greater than themselves, faith in something or someone that could free them from the bondage and horrors they were experiencing at this particular moment in time.

To the spirit, this man’s lack of faith was particularly painful because the last human leader of the last human tribe upon Gnolom had been foreordained, in the pre-existence, to become his fore-bearer. If the mortal were to succumb to his fears, then the spirit’s destiny would be rewritten, something that caused him to quiver.

The mortal had just finished his murmuring, which was a cue for the spirit to move in. He levitated higher and turned to face Coen. His bare feet hung in the air just past the edge of the cliff. Leaning forward, the spirit locked eyes with the mortal and began to speak to the man’s soul.

*****

Anger, rage, hate, and desperation all exploded to the surface. Coen’s flesh seemed to boil. He was just about to let out a blood-curdling roar, calling out the giant leader, when a small blue orb began to hover in front of his eyes. Suddenly, the heat of the anger that raged inside him transformed into a feeling of comfort like a warm, soft blanket wrapping around him in order to protect him from the coming onslaught.

The orb began to grow and glow brighter. He was caught in its beauty, unable to pull his gaze away. The feelings of peace and love that enveloped him were intoxicating. He didn’t want it to end. Reaching out with his finger to touch it, he said, Do you see that?

See what? I don’t see anything other than our enemies below, Rurik responded, bewildered as to where Coen was pointing.

That . . . this blue, glowing orb, hovering right here. I-It’s beautiful.

I don’t see anything, Coen.

You do—

A voice of thunder startled Coen out of his trance and echoed off of the mountain’s walls throughout the valley below. Coen!

The blue orb vanished instantly, and so did the invisible blanket of protection that had covered him. He jerked his head to peer down below. He could see King Middoni surrounded by his soldiers, adorned in their torchlight.

Coen! Are you ready to die tonight?

The anger and desperation he had felt before swept over him like a waterfall. He burst out, You wretched creature! Tonight, you die! As sure as the gods are my witnesses, you and your kind will never take control of this world! Even if I am the last man standing on this field of battle, humankind will always reign on this planet!

King Middoni laughed sinisterly through his sharp gray teeth. So be it, you fool! The giant king then turned back to the hundreds of giants in his command and issued an order in his native tongue.

Jokina bellowed and reared back, sensing the coming attack. Coen held on tight. Once her hooves clanked upon the rocky surface of the ledge, he turned to Rurik. This is it, Rurik. Whatever happens to us, we must not allow those abominations to find our women and children hiding within the village.

The look on Rurik’s face told Coen that he knew all too well the ramifications if the giants were to find their families. Rurik returned his glare to the giants below, drew his sword, and raised it above his head. Archers at the ready!

The archers on the ledge above drew their bows and readied their arrows for attack.

Just before Rurik gave the order to fire, Coen held out his hand. Wait; do you hear that?

Both men sat quietly, listening intently through the dark night air. They could hear a rush of wind coming toward them. The wind grew louder like a hurricane as it drew closer and closer.

Their horses whinnied, retreating backwards. They too could sense something was amiss. Coen leaned forward, his eyes growing wider as he began to make out the silhouette of a gigantic boulder heading their way. Incoming! he cried.

Rurik’s horse reared back, bucking him off. He sprawled backwards and landed on his back with a thud onto the stone ledge. His horse galloped away in retreat down the rocky path of the mountainside.

Rurik! Coen screamed as he pulled on Jokina’s reins in order to help his fallen friend. But Jokina jerked her head in the opposite direction and bolted after the other horse. No, Jokina! We have to he—

Before he could get the words out, the boulder crashed into the ledge where he had just been. Rock and dirt exploded into the air. Coen felt the debris pelt his face, but he didn’t turn away for protection. With Jokina speeding down the rocky trail, his head was turned and fixed on the location where Rurik had been. Rurik! No!

With no time to grieve, he turned his attention ahead as the black mare galloped down the steep trail. Once Jokina reached the tree line, branches began to hit his face and body. He heard the swish of the arrows as they sailed through the air. Deafening roars cut through the air, signaling to Coen that the giants had proceeded with their attack and were beginning to climb the cliff face.

Coen barely made out the hindquarters of the Rurik’s horse ahead. When he clicked his heels against Jokina’s flanks, she burst into another gear. Knowing that there was no possible way he could go back up the trail to lead his men, he thought of another plan. The trail he was on would take him off of the mountain and right behind the giants. Even though he knew that he wouldn’t do much damage as one man, he at least could inflict some by swiping at the giants’ legs with his sword. It was the only thing he could think of that would give his men enough time to inflict injury or death with their arrows and oil.

The jungle foliage was beginning to grow denser as Jokina closed the gap. Just before they reached the end of the trail, a colossal hand swept down and clutched Rurik’s horse. Coen pulled back on the reins with all of his might and Jokina skidded to a halt, nearly causing Coen to fly forward.

Without hesitation, Coen drew his sword and looked up. His eyes locked on to the bleary eyes of a giant that was standing seven meters above him. But the giant didn’t seem to notice him. Instead, the monster zeroed in on Rurik’s horse, clutched in his right hand. The giant gawked at the horse with lustful hunger. The horse squealed in pain as the giant squeezed his hand tighter and tighter. His razor-sharp fingernails tore into the horse’s flesh, and red blood began to ooze between his fingers. The giant then brought the dying animal to his mouth and chomped down over the horse’s head with his razor-like teeth. Crimson blood exploded and dripped from the corners of his mouth.

Repulsed, Coen again clicked his heels against Jokina’s flanks. The mare darted right toward the left knee of the mammoth creature. With the ease and precision of the skilled warrior that he was, he slashed his sword through air, slicing right through both knee tendons. He quickly turned Jokina around just in time to see the giant let out a wailing scream and drop what was left of Rurik’s horse. He